Ancient Magic

by Blink, Bob

  “Welcome,” she said in a soft voice, spoken so as not to carry far. She avoided using his name or title, and the other men in the room paid no attention to his arrival. She took his arm and expertly led him out of the common area through a side door into another area. An attractive young girl wearing a nearly transparent outfit with nothing underneath appeared from the far side of the room as they entered. He couldn’t help but stare.

  “Ceryl will take you to the woman you have requested,” the madam said smoothly. “I hope you enjoy your visit.”

  Rhog hadn’t requested anyone, but he knew this was Orano’s doing. “You must partake of the offerings at the house,” the Bishop had told him. “I do not see that as a problem for you given your reputation in these matters. If you do not, there might be questions. The girls will talk, and if none received your attentions, they might wonder what other reasons brought you to the house. We cannot have that.”

  Ceryl boldly took his hand, smiling openly at him. He wondered if there was any way to request this young woman for his evening entertainment, but given the true nature of his visit he decided that it wouldn’t be wise to try and modify the script the Bishop had put in play. He filed away her name for a later time. He would be back or would send a request for her to be brought to the palace. The latter might be best, for there he had full control of events and no one would dare interfere.

  They walked toward the back of the house and up a flight of stairs. Rhog liked watching her limbs move under the transparent gown. It was extremely erotic he realized. Finally they stopped outside a large oaken door. The girl knocked twice, then opened the door, standing back so Rhog could step past her and into the room. Inside waited a woman who was older, but extremely desirable in her own right. Rhog didn’t even hear the door being closed behind him.

  Later, Rhog was just finishing dressing when Bishop Orano stepped through a hidden entrance along the back wall. The woman had left several minutes earlier, her function having been completed. Rhog looked up at the sound of the hidden wooden panel shifting.

  “This place has hidden passageways just like the palace?” Rhog asked, not entirely surprised by the manner in which the Bishop entered the room.

  “That’s one reason I chose it,” Orano replied. “I can come and go unobserved. Very few know of these passageways.”

  “I’ll bet the girls who work here know,” Rhog said.

  “Not so I’ve been told. That would mean word would get out. Only the madam and a few very trusted associates are aware. The girls and their customers are carefully kept in the dark. The madam makes a great deal of coin from the advantages gained by the secret passageways. They only extend to a couple of rooms by the way.”

  “Blackmail?” Rhog asked.

  “That and other returns,” the Bishop replied. “That was quite a performance, by the way.”

  “You watched?” Rhog asked, suddenly uncomfortable that certain of his jaded preferences had been exposed to another.

  “Of course,” Orano replied unperturbed by the observation. “One must always be willing to learn new techniques. I can’t imagine she enjoyed everything you wished of her.”

  “I thought as a Bishop in the Church of Risos you were celibate?” Rhog asked.

  “Of course I am,” Orano replied as he waved the matter off.

  “Is it safe to talk here?” Rhog asked, now uncomfortable with the area that existed behind the walls. He already felt too many of his secrets had been revealed.

  “Far safer than anywhere else I know.”

  Rhog thought for a moment. Then he decided the Bishop had every bit as much to lose as himself and would not be willing to talk if it weren’t indeed as safe as he claimed.

  “What has gone wrong?” he asked finally. “My brother still lives. My father received one of his messenger birds just the other day.”

  Bishop Orano had received his own messages from his priest by their own communications link.

  “Luck has been against us,” Orano proclaimed simply. “Twice the situation looked favorable, and both times events were turned around. We have lost two of the men who were to be instrumental in arranging the “accident”. Our priest indicates he must be careful. Your brother is clearly aware that he does not like him and might be getting suspicious.”

  “I’m told they will be starting for home. The opportunity will soon be lost.”

  “That is true. There is something else amiss. The men who have been encountered are clearly not all from Lopal. One of our mercenaries told our priest that he had fought with him before.”

  “So, Lopal is augmenting their troops with mercenaries. We do the same. The mercs will fight on either side,” Rhog observed.

  “Perhaps so, but it is unlike Lopal to use them in this type of situation. Some other explanation might be required.”

  “What’s important is how do we finish what we have started,” Rhog interrupted, uninterested in a few unexplained mercenaries. “If Rhory returns, I’ll not have another chance like this. He’ll either remain at the castle, or if war breaks out, he will be surrounded by the full forces that Branid deploys.”

  “I see only one other chance,” Orano responded. “We don’t have the men left to maneuver your brother into danger. Our last hope is to arrange an ambush along the trail of their return. An arrow from concealment rather than a direct encounter. It will be an obvious attack on him as opposed to an apparent random death in battle, but he will be removed. It is the best we can do at this point. I have men who can do this, but it is more dangerous for them and hence will cost considerably more in gold.”

  “Are they better than the men you sent with my brother? We cannot afford another failure.”

  “Nothing is guaranteed, but these men are skilled in this kind of job.”

  Rhog only hesitated a moment. He needed his brother to die. His chances would be considerably reduced if his twin lived to return.

  “Make it happen. I will see the gold makes its way to the same accounts as before.”

  The Bishop nodded. He’d known this is what Rhog would decide. The stupid fool was so predictable.

  They talked only a little longer, then the Bishop stood. It wouldn’t do for Rhog to linger too long in the room after the whore had left. “I will leave the way I came. You must do the same,” Orano instructed.

  Rhog nodded then stood and left via the door. Orano watched him go. So easy to manipulate, the Bishop thought. He knew that Rhog would arrange to have Ceryl brought to him at the castle. Orano had made certain the young girl was put on display for him earlier. Rhog would think she was his own choice as opposed to the whore that Orano had made available for him earlier. She would become a favorite for a time as she was highly skilled and inventive. Orano knew. He’d sampled her himself. He’d also made sure she was versed in the kinds of perversions that Rhog liked. The girl would provide Orano with inside information he needed to keep tabs on the unpredictable brother. Smiling, he turned and exited through the hidden door.

  Chapter 35

  King Rupermore considered the latest message that had been delivered by bird from his son so far away. The bird handler had brought the terse message to him a short time earlier. He was now in his private room, the one that could only be accessed through the large room where he held most of his meetings, other than the truly formal assemblies that were held in the grand rooms downstairs. His personal quarters were on the far side of the castle, well away from here. His wife didn’t like the constant disturbances of people coming and going, and he agreed that the matter of running the kingdom should be kept away from the few hours each day he had for a personal life. His sons and daughters also had quarters on that side of the castle, although in a separate wing these days.

  The private room contained items he’d saved from his years as ruler, and a few special possessions from even before. Some of the items were ornate and valuable, but for the most part they were simple and had value only to him. At the moment he was holding an old worn sw
ord. It was the sword he’d worn for years and which had saved his life more times than he could count. It was a good sword, but not one of the fancy Kellmore swords like his boys carried now. It was nicked and scratched, and the grip was stained with a combination of sweat and blood, some of it his and some from enemies he’d dispatched. Swords were going to be needed again, and men were going to die. He’d hoped he’d seen the last of that during his rule.

  The latest news was mostly bad. At least Rhory was alive and well, despite a number of close encounters over the preceding weeks. The force was on its way back now having completed the scouting mission to the far north. Rhory indicated in the latest message that the raids were becoming more frequent and better manned. He had recently had his men bypass a large force of soldiers from Lopal because they outnumbered them by too wide a margin. This was in an area that had been free of invaders on their way north. On the return, the area was now under siege.

  The King had already sent word to Mos’pera, Rhory’s wife. He knew she would want to know he was still well. Somehow the woman had the ability to remain stoic and calm despite days between word. He wished he had her composure. It was almost as if she had some insight that told her of her husband’s well being. Rupermore knew that some believed she was one of those with such ability. He didn’t believe in such nonsense himself, however. One didn’t rule a kingdom by silly superstition.

  More than a week before he had sent an emissary back to Kellmore. He sent word to King Arotho of what his son had learned on the expedition and that war was all but unavoidable. He reaffirmed his feelings that a mutual support treaty between the two countries was more important than ever and hoped the King would still see it that way once he knew of other developments. King Rupermore then explained what he had learned about his daughter and her pregnancy and resistance to the proposed marriage. He suggested that the Kellmore King move forward with the announcement of marriage. That alone would build a bond between the people of the two lands. He would do the same here in Branid assuming Arotho agreed. It would be impossible to see the couple wed before the pregnancy showed, so perhaps it would be best to delay the actual ceremony. That would allow the child to be born, and he would see to its disposition. By then he should have settled his rebellious child down so the marriage could go ahead. Even if that weren’t to happen, the promise alone might see them through the coming war. He apologized for the problem and hoped they could come to an agreement swiftly.

  He’d also sent word to the Lords of Branid, calling them to meet with him. They needed to know what he had learned and that they needed to start preparing for war immediately. They would be no more ready for events than he was. Most were over extended trying to bring their lands back to full productivity. None would have men or money to spare, and both would be required in quantities he knew couldn’t be found. They would all be here in Sulen before long. Then he’d know how bad it was really going to be.

  “Therl?” asked a soft voice behind him. He hadn’t heard her come in. He was getting old and didn’t have the senses or attention he used to.

  Sighing, he put the sword down on the scarred old table and turned to his wife. “Good afternoon, Usaya,” he replied. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  The King looked at his wife. Almost two decades younger than himself and the mother of his youngest child, she still held her good looks. There was no gray in her dark hair, although wrinkles were just starting to form around her eyes. She might be starting to put on a little weight, but not so much one would really notice. Her intelligent eyes looked back at him, the worry obvious.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, seeing the deep lines in his face. “Is it bad news? I heard a messenger going to Mos’pera.”

  “Rhory is fine. I would have informed you had something happened to him.” Even though Rhory wasn’t her natural son, she’d effectively raised the boy with him and felt close to him. “But, yes, the news is mostly bad. Rhory reports that the number of invaders is increasing. There are now more in areas that were relatively free of them when he passed through a few weeks earlier. He has lost enough troops that he has to be careful when he engages the enemy. His is not a force that can fight significant battles at the moment.”

  “Is there anything you can do to help him?”

  “He is returning to Sulen. There we will have to assemble the nation’s army. In the meantime I have already ordered reserves to head north to intercept his force. He should have reinforcements within a week or two. That will assure his safety for now. I sent them under command of Loum.”

  Loum was a long time friend of Rhory and one of their senior and most effective commanders. He was the best they had available, and Rupermore had spent long hours wondering whether it was best to send him to support his son, or hold him back to help oversee preparations.

  “We are not going to fare well, are we?”

  The King shook his head. “The country is not recovered and prepared for an all out war. Wars are always bad, and always costly. Even if we are able to withstand Lopal’s onslaught, we will be weakened severely and it will take years to recover. I don’t know what Lopal is after, but I have to assume they can’t hope to conquer Branid completely.”

  “Have you considered sending an ambassador to King I’Vorris and negotiate with him? Perhaps some kind of settlement can be made without a full war.”

  “I was considering just that when you surprised me. The Lords will be here soon. I will have to raise the matter with them. If Lopal’s demands are reasonable, it might be wise to yield to them without major fighting. They must know they have the upper hand, so I fear they will not let us off so easily.”

  “What of Kellmore?”

  “It is too soon to hear back. Hopefully Mydra’s actions have not doomed that alliance.”

  “And if they have?”

  “Branid simply cannot stand against Lopal alone. Neither can Kellmore. If the alliance falls through, then one of the two lands will more than likely fall to Lopal. That is what seems most likely to me.”

  Usaya laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “How soon do you think before war is upon us?”

  “Given the number of men that Rhory has reported within our borders, perhaps even before winter. It would make more sense for Lopal to wait for spring, but perhaps they won’t give us the time to prepare. They might have been planning this for years, and deem this the best time to catch us off guard.”

  “What can be done before your Lords arrive?”

  “I have to meet with the Cardinal. The church can use its communications network to have the word spread. The harvest must be gathered as soon as possible and the food sent from the outlying areas to Sulen. We cannot afford to lose the results of this year’s growing season in the event the borderlands are overrun. The people won’t like it, but they should consider moving out of the area until this is over.”

  “They might never be able to return,” Usaya warned.

  The King nodded. “I know,” he said softly. “They will know that too which is why they will be reluctant to leave.”

  The King picked up the worn sword once again. He guessed he would be wearing it again before long. He wouldn’t be going into battle. He was too old and would be of no use there. But he would wear it when he addressed his armies. He wondered if Duke Cordale had been right. Maybe he should have spent more gold and effort in building his army, but at the time it had seemed best to see to the immediate needs of the people.

  In her quarters, Mydra was busy making her own plans. Her father had been open with her and her siblings about what was coming. War! And sooner than they might think. Rhory was returning, and when he was back they would hear all of the details. She knew her father was extremely angry with her, and had it been normal times she might have held out some hope of swaying him to her opinion. But now with war coming, he told her he needed her to do her part.

  “It’s part of the duty that comes with being the rulers of a land like Branid,” he explained to her as i
f she hadn’t heard it all her life. “We are given a privileged life, but in return, certain things are required of us. The men go to war and lead our armies. Some die as a result. I lost two brothers to war. The women, the princesses such as yourself, are expected to serve by building bridges and helping unite us with our friends. That is sometimes not what you might wish, but it is essential.”

  She understood that. But she wasn’t having any of it. She knew about the elder son of the Kellmore King. She wasn’t about to spend her life married to a simpleton. Not after she’d met Rupert. She was pregnant with his child and fully intended to spend her life with him. She would run away. She didn’t care to be a princess. She hadn’t discussed this with her lover, but she knew he’d see it her way.

  She knew her father had verified her pregnancy. It was easy enough for him to do. Her servants were more loyal to him than they were to her, and they would have revealed everything he needed to know to establish the fact. Thank Risos none of them knew who Rupert was. She didn’t know what her father might do to the man had he learned his name. She also feared for the baby. Her father was normally a kind and understanding man, but she had never defied him in this way, and if he thought eliminating the child would save hundreds of his soldiers, she doubted he would hesitate to have it done. She was certain her father was still offering her to the Kellmore King, despite her current condition. Well, they would see. She would simply disappear. She just needed to decide if she was going to wait until Rhory returned to hear what he had to say. It would be the perfect time, since all attention would be focused on him. She intended to be ready.